THE HOME

"If we are eager to do something to lighten the load of another, eager to sacrifice self; to cheer, and counsel, and inspire; to leave unsaid some unkind word, to forget our own troubles in the larger trouble of a friend, we are home-builders.""A married woman can't decently spend her life in playing bridge, and in running ribbons through her underclothing She hasn't any right just to camp on her husband's trail."No woman on earth has a right to maintenance unless she gives value received."

"If we are eager to do something to lighten the load of another, eager to sacrifice self; to cheer, and counsel, and inspire; to leave unsaid some unkind word, to forget our own troubles in the larger trouble of a friend, we are home-builders."

"A married woman can't decently spend her life in playing bridge, and in running ribbons through her underclothing She hasn't any right just to camp on her husband's trail.

"No woman on earth has a right to maintenance unless she gives value received."

A Good Housekeeper and Home-maker—What Constitutes a good Housekeeper—Preparation and Selection of Meals—Washing Dishes—Pots and Pans—Dusting and Cleaning—Work Cheerfully and Be Thorough—Don't Be a Dust Chaser—Don't Get the Anti-sunshine Habit—Air Your Rooms—The Ideal Home—The Medical Essentials of a Good Meal—What Makes the Home—Working for Something—The Average Housewife's Existence Is Slavery—What Shall We Work For—Making Ends Meet—Rest and Recreation—Try a Nap—Get Enough Sleep at Night—Go Out of Doors—Take a Vacation Now and Then—Life Insurance—Owning a Home—The Cheerful Wife and Mother—The Indifferent Wife and Mother—Husband and Wife.

A Good Housekeeper and Home-maker—What Constitutes a good Housekeeper—Preparation and Selection of Meals—Washing Dishes—Pots and Pans—Dusting and Cleaning—Work Cheerfully and Be Thorough—Don't Be a Dust Chaser—Don't Get the Anti-sunshine Habit—Air Your Rooms—The Ideal Home—The Medical Essentials of a Good Meal—What Makes the Home—Working for Something—The Average Housewife's Existence Is Slavery—What Shall We Work For—Making Ends Meet—Rest and Recreation—Try a Nap—Get Enough Sleep at Night—Go Out of Doors—Take a Vacation Now and Then—Life Insurance—Owning a Home—The Cheerful Wife and Mother—The Indifferent Wife and Mother—Husband and Wife.

A Good Housekeeper and Home-maker.—If the young wife carries out the suggestions made on the preceding pages and thereby contributes her part to establishing the material success of the co-partnership, will she profit in any other way?

She will have become a good housekeeper and home-maker.

Housekeeping is an acquired art, home-making is a moral quality, an instinct. Housekeeping conducted as an art is superfluous. Home-making is a triumph under any circumstances. There are many good housekeepers; there are few competent home-makers. Housekeeping may easily be overdone; home-making can never be overdone. A beautiful house is not necessarily abeautiful home. Housekeeping should be conducted with a view to home-making and never for any other reason. Sometimes we see housekeeping brought to its highest perfection by the same woman who never did understand the simplest rudiments of home-making. The woman who becomes the victim of the housekeeping mania never realizes it; it is an insidious art.

There can be no doubt that a well-kept house is a thing of beauty. So also is a marble statue, but it is cold and bloodless.

The young wife must strive to combine the two faculties. She should be an efficient housekeeper in a happy, comfortable home.

What Constitutes an Efficient Housekeeper?—An efficient housekeeper is one who has acquired the knowledge necessary to perform all the duties of housekeeping, and who executes these duties efficiently, with the least possible expenditure of time and labor.

It is an absolute fact that most young wives begin housekeeping with the crudest ideas as to what housekeeping means. It has been pointed out many times, that many mothers bring their daughters up without instructing them in the elementary principles of keeping house. It is nevertheless necessary to repeat this statement over and over again, and to point out the enormity of the injustice done. Even if a daughter is fortunate enough to marry a man who is capable of supplying all the help necessary, a wife should know enough to intelligently discern if the work is properly done. If she does not understand the rudiments of housekeeping, and has no help, her inefficiency may be directly responsible for breaking up the home.

Preparation and Selection of Meals.—Thoroughness and simplicity are the two essentials to a satisfactory meal. If the articles are thoroughly cooked and the selection simple, there is no chance for trouble. A breakfast of fruit, a thoroughly cooked cereal with cream, a boiled egg and toasted bread and butter, is simple and is adequate. Freshly prepared hot biscuits sound good, but, unless you know your oven and have had a lot of experience, they are apt to result disastrously. Evenif you are an expert, don't make them. They are very bad for digestion.

For dinner, lots of thoroughly cooked vegetables, a small piece of steak or two lamb chops, bread (at least one day old), and good butter, a baked apple, stewed prunes, or rice, boiled for three hours, is enough for any one. Have your meals on time. Be sure the table cloth and napkins are clean, and your dishes hot. Establish the habit of being cheerful at meals, of eating slowly, and of coming to the table with a clean, fresh dress.

Washing Dishes.—While your husband is reading the evening paper, wash your dishes. Washing dishes is an art. Few young wives acquire it. The secret is, a big basin, lots of hot water, lots of soap, and a desire to wash them clean. If you wash them clean, don't smear them over by drying them with a greasy dishcloth. Wash your dishrag and drying towel every day, and hang them up to dry in the sun.

Pots and Pans.—How they are neglected! If you have any pride as a housekeeper, be clean. Hot water, soap, a cleansing powder and a little effort, and your pots and pans will be a credit to you. Have a system. Take time. Keep your kitchen tidy. Don't let work accumulate from meal to meal or from day to day. It is astonishing how lazy and dirty some women are. We have seen young women on the street, dressed tidily and smartly, and we have gone into the homes of these women and have been disgusted and nauseated with their general appearance. There is absolutely no excuse for this, and a young wife who gets into the habit of being indifferent is a disgrace to her sex. She cannot hope for success or happiness.

Dusting and Cleaning.—Every home should be thoroughly cleaned once a week. A certain day should be selected for the purpose. A certain system should be followed. After it has been done a number of times, you will devise ways and means of doing it quicker, easier and better. New methods will suggest themselves from time to time, so, by planning and systematizing, you will get rid of the drudgery part, and there will be a constant incentive present to beat your past record. Youmust get rid of the feeling that it is uninteresting drudgery and slavery. A woman who looks upon her work in that light is not deserving of any better fate, and she will not get much further. If you are one of these perverse individuals who resent advice; if you object to being told the truth; if you do not want to profit by experience; if you are satisfied as you are, don't waste your precious time reading books. No author can tell you how to get something for nothing; no teacher can instruct others in anything. He can only awaken thought and arouse impulses. The law of life is harmony. An individual who wastes God's precious time in grumbling and fretting is the most pitiful object in the universe. Try to appreciate that you are part of the divine problem, regarding the conduct of which certain implacable laws have been formulated. To obey these laws means continued life, health, strength, power and success; to disobey them means weakness, sickness, incapacity, unhappiness, discontent and premature death.

Some people learn quickly how to conserve strength, how to systematize, how to be cheerful and hopeful and to radiate thankfulness. From a selfish standpoint this is the only method that pays. Some people will not see the point. They will put it aside by some such sophistry as: "Oh! it does not apply to me." It does, nevertheless, and probably at a later date, when the chance of achievement has withered, they will see the point through the mist of regret.

Work cheerfully, therefore, and be thorough. Don't overdo it. Fussiness is objectionable, useless and unhealthy, because it is a constant drain on nerve energy. Some women are dust-chasers. They are eternally poking into corners with a feather duster. They chase dust from one room to another and back again, and the sight of a few grains on the piano makes them sick. Dust with a moist cloth and when your dusting is over leave it and forget it. Don't buy a feather duster.

Don't get the anti-sunshine fad. Let the sun in. Don't pull your shades down to save the parlor carpet. Your husband would probably sooner buy another than pay for a funeral.

Air your rooms always, night as well as day. You cannot overdo it. Buy mosquito screens, keep the flies out, but let the air in.

The Ideal Home.—It is difficult to describe an ideal home, but we know one the moment we are in it. Its atmosphere instinctively breathes the personality of the home-maker. Its individuality distinctly differentiates it from the ordinary impersonal home. Its housekeeping dress is inviting; its furnishings harmonious; and it exhales repose, and comfort, and peace. When we meet its mistress we are welcomed in a low, gentle, cordial tone of voice, and in a manner which radiates honesty and unaffected simplicity. We discover the source of the unusual atmosphere. It is herself, the wife, the mother, the home-maker. She is the mystery of the ideal home. Each day her divine art grows more perfect because her heart is consecrated to the work. She may not be surrounded with material splendor. The miracle is in the soul she possesses. Love is the magic wand she yields. She loves her home, her children, her husband. She is the queen mother in the paradise she creates.

We have seen that a good housekeeper may not be a home-maker. Every home-maker, on the other hand, is a good housekeeper. The ideal home could not exist unless presided over by a home-maker. A home-maker necessarily implies being a good mother; but a good housekeeper, who is not a good mother, will never be a home-maker.

A good housekeeper will keep house for the art's sake and will resent any domestic event which upsets her housekeeping sense of decorum, even though the event may have splendid home-making possibilities. The mother with the home-making instincts will invite, and aid, and will conceive events, which, though they upset her housekeeping routine, will contribute to the happiness and edification of the home circle. The housekeeper's sense of duty ends when a good dinner is served; the home-maker's real duty and incidentally her pleasure begins, when dinner is on the table.

The Medical Essentials of a Good Meal Are:Pure food, judiciously selected for two reasons. First, thatthere may be an adequate daily variety—in order to stimulate the individual taste and appetite; second, that the food supplies may be adapted, in nourishing equivalents, to the work and age of the diner. The food must be thoroughly cooked, eaten slowly, and masticated with care and deliberation. Every meal should be served and eaten when cooked and ready. Food should never be allowed to stand when cooked to the proper degree. Overdone food is not desirable. The dishes should be heated to the proper degree; the table linen, napkins, etc., clean and fresh; and the family should all eat at the same time.

A meal should never be hurried. Interesting conversation is, therefore, a necessary and a commendable feature while dining. There is less desire or tendency to hasten through a meal when one is interested or is being entertained. The intervals between courses will be welcomed rather than resented under these circumstances, and the appetite will be keener and the enjoyment greater.

The wife and mother, who is the home-maker and consequently responsible for theesprit de corpsof the family, will direct, suggest, and guide the conversation into profitable and interesting channels. By thus supplying the atmosphere necessary to the efficient eating of a meal, the digestion and the assimilation of the food will adequately take care of itself. Overeating is never a part of any meal and should be religiously avoided.

What Makes the Home.—We know it isn't the house we live in that makes the home. Many have lived in humble dwellings and have carried all through life the memory of home as a sacred legacy. Wealth does not make a home, nor culture, nor any of the intellectual attainments for which we may strive unceasingly. We may have all these and yet not know the joy of "home." "Home" conveys to every heart the same tender memories. To have known the blessings of a "home" is to be fortified for life's battles. No one can deny its importance in humanizing mankind. A boy who has never known what it was to have a home, whose substitute for the home associations was an "institutional mother," mayhave all the necessary potential qualities for success, but he will be forever deprived of the inspiration that memory of home kindles in every human soul.

The secret of the sources of home is its atmosphere. The atmosphere of home is the sum total of the kinship and sympathy radiated by its members. It is a tangible something which is capable of being felt, which is capable of inspiration and which is capable of being carried away into the years beyond, exerting a helpful influence over the milestones of worry, and trouble, and defeat; and it is always a fragrant, soothing, energizing influence. Every human heart needs the memory of a home and the presence of a friend at all times and in all places.

We must contribute our share to form the right kind of home-making "atmosphere." The two qualities which are essential to this task are sympathy and peace. Each contributor must be more than a negative unit in the home. It is not enough to simply desire peace—a deaf mute could fill that part. We must desire to please and we must be an active agency working for harmony and peace. If there is in our heart enough sincere affection for brother and sister, father and mother, the desire to please will be the bond of sympathy that will weather every temperamental storm. If we are eager to do something to lighten the load of another, eager to sacrifice self, to cheer and counsel and inspire, to leave unsaid some unkind word, to forget our own troubles in the larger trouble of a friend, we are home-builders. We must control our moods in the home, we must submerge the instinct of selfishness, of impatience, of pride, and of obstinacy. We must not be opinionated, we can many times conform to the opinion of others in trivial matters and preserve peace; we thereby minister to the happiness of others, because to give happiness is the surest way to be happy. Temper is the sting that poisons many homes. Its possessor is an impossible associate and will defeat the work of the angels in the effort to make homes.

Working for Something.—At various times we have emphasized the necessity of having definite plans, of "knowing exactly what you want," of "beginning wedded life with ideals"; in other words, we believe that to combinethe maximum efficiency with the greatest degree of happiness it is necessary for all of us to "work for something."

It is not necessary to prove that the average human life is uninteresting; most of us know that. As a matter of fact the average existence is a monotonous, hopeless dreary stretch of time, dotted at more or less frequent intervals with physical pain and suffering, and with mental sorrow and anguish.

While this is undeniably a true epitome of the average life to-day, it is not to be accepted as the only possible average existence. Every agency that is working for the betterment of the conditions which surround life is helping to elevate the status of the average individual. As individuals, the question whether our life will conform to the average, or be individualized, rests with ourselves.

The ordinary average housewife's existence is slavery in its loneliest and most wretched form. Its utter hopelessness is its most depressing feature. If we could hope for some glint of sunshine, some day in the future when conditions would change, some circumstance which would give us the opportunity which we have never had, some test of our womanhood,—anything to relieve the crushing, hopeless inertia of the daily routine,—we imagine we could go on again, hoping that things would permanently change eventually. Don't "hope things will change." Change them! Don't get in a mental rut; don't be an "average" housewife. If you really can't do anything else, if things are so abjectly hopeless that there is no other way out, if your path is leading to nowhere, start a rebellion. When the smoke has cleared away you may see a new path to follow, and it may lead to somewhere. It is not necessary to do this often, because the fault is usually our own, and not that of environment or conditions, or our husbands. All we need to do is to think things over, and begin something, and all the other conditions will take care of themselves. The moment we step outside the humdrum path of existence, the moment we are curious enough to do this, there is hope for us. A little mental fresh air will dissipate a good many brain fogs. The instant we begin "workingfor something" definite, we cease to follow in the procession of the average helpless and hopeless citizen. So to the young housewife we would strongly suggest that she "think things over" and decide what she is going to work for.

Now, what will it be? Of course it will be different with each housewife. With many it will be "a home of our own." It may only be a piano for the children, or it may wisely be more insurance. Possibly you live in the country, and you long for the social and other advantages of the city. You may be a city wife and may long for a farm in the glorious country. It may be a trip to Europe; or a college education for the boy; or a musical career for the daughter. It does not matter what it is, the "it" is the thing itself, and, having found it, the world for you has changed. The lonesomeness, and the hopelessness, and the wretchedness of life have disappeared. There is always in the future the "it"; no matter how dark and gloomy the road may be, it is illuminated at the far end with the realized "it." It is the bearing of the burden of life that makes a wife, and when we have "something to work for" we begin to live. Love is the explanation. We don't want the home for ourselves. We want it for those we love, we want those we love in the atmosphere, which I, as mother, will make in "our home." It is the elemental mother that speaks,—the motherhood spirit that pours out eternally in self-sacrifice and keeps no debit account. It is the cry of the primal mother that echoes through all the ages and which has kept the race sane and safe and hopeful. Having something to work for supplies the element necessary to cheerfulness. In the darkest moments, when everything seems to go wrong, the thought that we can look forward to a time when a great change is coming, when we will move to the new home, when we go to the farm or the city as the case may be, or when John will finish his college course and start out as a lawyer,—when the strain of skimping and making ends meet is over we feel that the struggle will let up and we can rest in peace for a little while. It is sharing these burdens that counts, and brings out the best elements of human nature. The struggleof making ends meet draws the young couple closer together, and adds that touch of divinity that is essential to confidence and love. It strengthens character, curbs the tendency to unnecessary expenditure of money and time, and teaches frugality and patience. The incentive to win out is ever present, and it is the anchor that means final satisfaction and success.

Try to see the point. Work for something,—something worth while, and when you have once begun never turn back. "Nothing-succeeds like success."

Rest and Recreation—A young couple should find time for rest and recreation as well as for work. This part of the domestic problem should be carefully and systematically utilized, and just as faithfully carried out as any other part. Both husband and wife should participate in these hours of enjoyment, and the husband should assiduously try to make of these respites periods of real mutual benefit. No matter in what station of life one may be, it is always possible to find congenial means of passing many happy and profitable hours together, if the spirit of companionship and mutual interest is kept alive. It is the incessant strain upon the nervous system that constitutes the real danger of home life. The struggle to make ends meet; to keep the children neat and well fed; to look respectable; to provide clothing and education; to nurse the sick; to tolerate gossipy neighbors; to put up with ugly tempers; to meet the constant drain of society, business, politics and religion,—the wonder is that so few remain outside the lunatic asylums.

There are certain inevitable daily happenings in the life of every housewife that must be tolerated though they are not pleasant. A certain number of interruptions will come at the most inopportune moments. The children will come in with muddy feet and walk over the clean floor; some days the stove works splendidly, other days it acts as if it was crazy; the milkman is late to-day and too early to-morrow; some days the iceman comes, some days he stays away, and these are the days we want him most; the upstairs work is not quite done when cooking must be begun; the grocer forgot to send the butter; a dish or two will crack or break every day; doors willslam; the rain begins to fall just when the clothes are all hung out; baby needs nursing just when the pie must be turned; a visitor calls before the dishes are washed. These are inevitable. The cure does not lie in some impossible revolution. We must rest the nerves and take the strain off.

Try a nap in the middle of the day. Lie down and relax even if you do not sleep. In some countries this is a national custom. It should be a law in America. One cannot appreciate the amount of good that can be gained from one-half hour's sleep. Medically it is a wonderful rejuvenator.

Get enough sleep at night. Late hours in the home is a bad habit and a poor investment. It affects the health and the efficiency. One extra hour means all the difference between frayed-out nerves, exasperated dispositions and home peace and contentment. There is a certain fixed ratio between sleep and good nature that has been formulated into a law by psychology. Keep early hours and the whole complexion of life will improve.

When indoor work becomes irksome go out of doors, try a walk. Nothing will dissipate tired-out nerves quicker than a brisk walk. Every housewife should walk in the open air every day of her life. It is an absolute necessity if she hopes to retain her health and spirits. She will be in better shape and in a better mood to carry out her part of the daily programme.

Take a vacation now and then. Go to the seashore or into the mountains. When a housewife is run down and irritable; when the disposition comes to indulge in a lonely cry; when she wishes she had never been born; when the cook stove and the children are hysterical irritants; it is time for a day off. The husband should find time to take his wife into the country for a week end, even a day at the seashore will work like magic.

Resting and recreation are necessary. If we do not recognize this fact, and adopt the habit as a preventative, we will be compelled to take it in an effort to cure a malady that has established itself as a consequence of the neglect. It, therefore, is a time and money saver, and it saves friction, and home, and maybe life.

Life Insurance.—Every young wife should insist upon her husband carrying life insurance upon his own life. She should make this a part of the prenuptial agreement. We would go further and state that a man who will not willingly agree to this is not a safe man to marry. The kind of insurance is immaterial, so long as it guarantees to the wife an adequate sum of money in the event of his premature death. The wife should regard the payment of the premiums as one of the necessities, and should personally know that they are promptly paid.

Owning a Home.—It should be the hope of every married couple to own their own home. It has been the regret of many, when in later years they have figured up the money which they have spent in rent, that they did not think of this plan earlier. Nowadays, it is possible to pay a very small sum down, and certain monthly payments, which apply on the purchase of a house. By beginning this way, when the family expenses are small, it is comparatively easy, and without any deprivations, to own the home outright in a few years. Many couples foolishly buy gaudy and unnecessary furniture, and live in more expensive homes than their means justify, in order to create an impression, when first married, which they later regret. If part of the money, which the young husband has undoubtedly saved,—or he should not marry,—was paid down on the purchase of a house it would be paid for before the extra expense which necessarily comes with children had to be met. The plan works to the advantage of the couple both ways, because, if no rent has to be paid out after a few years, the extra expense of children would not then be a hardship.

The Cheerful Wife and Mother.—How many happy memory pictures we see by simply reading the name,—the cheerful wife and mother,—we might call her the optimistic mother. No matter what we did as children, we were never afraid of her. She always saw the bright side, and if we did something wrong she never scolded angrily; she talked to us convincingly and made us slightly ashamed of ourselves. If we had any plan or project we took it to her, she listened, and she suggested, and before we knew it she had solved our problem and the planwas possible,—away we would go, enthusiastic and happy, to work out the details as she suggested, and shortly our "party was on its way." If any of us had an accident,—we didn't go home, we were afraid of a scolding,—the victim was rushed to her, she would wash the blood and tears away, bathe the wounded part, put on a bandage and then take the little patient up to her room. A cake and a story would soon have us feeling good and help us forget our pain. Oh! she was an angel to us. On rainy days she found a way to amuse us, our dirty feet didn't count, the floor was to be washed up anyhow. To keep in her good graces, however, we had to be reasonably good. She told us stories, and we soon found out that she didn't like a mean or stingy boy, and a boy or girl who would tell a lie she would not talk to for a week. Her stories always proved that the mean boy, or the bad little girl, or anyone who told lies, never had a good time, that no one liked them, and most everybody kept away from them, if they didn't stop being bad. She was a wonderful mother, and every boy and girl for miles around knew her and loved her.

And so it is that children soon learn who their real friends are. A home is what the mother makes it. Cheerfulness does not cost anything, and how much better it is if happiness abounds. You can get infinitely more of the confidence of a child by being gentle, and by showing that you have his or her real interest at heart. They will trust you more and rely upon your forbearance in the event of anything going wrong. As we boys and girls grew up the interest of the angel mother didn't cease; we met her often, and she would ask "how things were going." She knew exactly what each of the boys and girls was doing, and we always told her the truth, and all the truth. If anything did go wrong, she would know of it from one of the others, and she would "look up" the unfortunate one. Many times to my knowledge she has helped another mother over a crisis; when a boy was about to go wrong or showed a tendency to do some foolish thing. She did so because she "had a way" of getting round the boy, that even his own mother did not possess, and he would listen. A mother who can preserveher own cheerfulness under all circumstances is a jewel. The influence she wields is beyond estimation. A radiant cheerfulness is something akin to Christlikeness, it is an inspiration. People who live together frequently feel out of sorts in the presence of each other without a feeling of compunction, without realizing that they are guilty of a social discourtesy. If there is in that home an optimistic, cheerful mother, how different the atmosphere is! The cross look, or the touchy word, is quickly observed and all the power of her infectious cheerfulness is brought into battle array and the discontent is chased away, the vitriolic spirit of quarrel, slumbering so near the surface, is made to feel ashamed of itself. It shrinks into the darkness, and we begin the day all over again, thankful that mother is so good, so considerate and patient.

It isn't exactly by the children that such a mother is best appreciated. Father knows the real value of her cheerfulness. He knows just what it has meant in the past, and he knows what it means now. He can look back and he can recall many instances in which the optimism of his wife was the agency which turned the tide. He knows of many business deals wherein the cheerful advice of his wife changed his viewpoint and so changed failure into success. He can recall many instances during the early days of his business career when the outlook was gloomy and doubtful, when its success depended upon so small a matter as temperament and disposition, when the cheerfulness, the love and tact of his wife dispelled the gathering clouds, strengthened the wavering spirit and instilled new fight, new purpose, new hope, into the situation. Oh, yes, he knows that cheerfulness, and optimism, and tact, and love, have a definite economic value, but it cannot be estimated in dollars and cents. He knows they are an asset in the domestic problem, but they are sacred, holy, consecrated.

Cheerfulness is such a potent reality that it has a definite, concrete value. Life is a product of environment to a very considerable extent. Our surroundings very often dictate our attitude, and temperamentally at least we radiate whatever spirit our environment generates.

Here is the law. The blood of the father was tainted. For several generations it lay dormant, and then smote this little child, Bertha. It is the terrible, the inevitable law of heredity.

Not so much now, as years ago, is there intermarriage. It is fortunate, for the results of in-breeding are far worse in human beings than in animals; chiefly because of man's more highly developed nervous system. New, pure blood above all things else is a re-energizing force which may go far toward eventually eliminating any trace of taint.

[B]"Feeble-mindedness; Its Causes and Consequences," Goddard, The Macmillan Company.

[B]"Feeble-mindedness; Its Causes and Consequences," Goddard, The Macmillan Company.

One cheerful home will radiate, will send out into the world, certain definite, concrete influences which will encourage and stimulate, and strengthen and give new hope to every living thing it reaches. The atmosphere of cheerfulness will exert a specific influence upon every disposition within its zone. The children of a cheerful mother and home will radiate happiness, contentment and love. The husband of a cheerful wife will carry into life's struggle a more just, a more equitable, a more humanizing influence as a direct, concrete result of that cheerfulness, and who can tell into how many other homes the spirit of cheerfulness will be carried as a consequence of the justice, and equity, and charity of that husband and father? To return after a day's work and worry to a fireside, to a home, in which cheerfulness is the radiating element is to inspire contentment and peace and thankfulness. Out of the joy of thankfulness, out of the satisfaction of peace, and the fulness of contentment, the kingdom of Heaven is born, and when human hearts feel like this they are living near the borderland of great possibilities. The cheerful wife and mother needs little advice. She does, however, need our love and the knowledge that we are true to ourselves and that we are fighting an honest fight. She will be happy in that knowledge.

The Indifferent Wife and Mother.—The home over which an indifferent wife and mother presides is a "happy-go-lucky" home. There is something radically wrong in the make-up of a woman who is wife and mother and who is indifferent. It is not a natural condition, and it is frequently a product of simple ignorance. Such a woman may be exceedingly amiable and charitable; she may take an active interest in church and social affairs, and may be regarded as a kind and model housewife. Her interests are outside the home, however, and since the home is a place of apathy and indifference she feels she must "keep busy" elsewhere. She is out of touch with her husband and his affairs, and the children "get along somehow." If they come in for meals and report for bed that is all "any one can expect." There is seldom any acute friction, because every one isindifferent and selfishly attends to his own affairs.

Such a home is devoid of the domestic atmosphere. The mother touch is lacking: sentiment and love have long ago taken wings: the temperature of the place is cold and forbidding. The children "exist" and may be healthy animals, but their souls are empty and there is no comradeship or affection in their make-up. They do not know what human sympathy means, and they either grow into successful machines, or indifferent citizens. As human beings they are failures. It would be astonishing to know how many of this type of mother and wife the present strenuous age is producing. They are certainly on the increase, and the unrest, which is a growing characteristic of the sex, is tending to still further increase this type of womanhood. The mother element is being subverted and in its place we find "Justice" with her scales, but with a marble heart.

These women do not realize that the citadel of motherhood is a sacred, holy citadel, and that its responsibilities cannot be met by a negative allegiance. A child's character, its training, its physical equipment, its mental development, its body and soul, its heredity and acquired instincts, its virtues and its vices, its environment, are all mothers' cares, mothers' duties, mothers' responsibilities, and if they are neglected part of the eternal scheme is frustrated and recompense will be exacted. When a woman marries she assumes responsibilities which she cannot and dare not neglect. If she does, she will have to give an accounting of her stewardship.

The indifferent mother and wife does not fit. She is incompetent, she is one of nature's sarcasms. She is a mistake as a wife, as a mother, and as a member of society. She is not sincere or she would not be guilty of such fundamental injustice. As a human being she is a parasite, and in the Master's vineyard she is a weed.

Husband and Home.—As sponsor for the welfare and efficiency of the family and the home, the wife and mother should occasionally give some thought to the husband and father.

William Muldoon, one of the greatest physical efficiency experts in this or any other country, who has intimatelyknown hundreds of our great men in every walk of life, recently stated that American men to-day do not appear to have the same amount of physical endurance and nervous energy that men of forty years ago possessed. In other words, as a race we are degenerating. In his opinion the condition is due to the fact that commercialism has taken such a firm hold upon the American people that everything else is cast aside to make a success in business or profession.

This is a serious indictment coming from such a source and should be of intense interest to the wife and mother of to-day.

The over-worked business man, when he gets into the hands of the physician, is a neurasthenic. He has gone just as far as his vitality will take him. His mind is fagged and worn out and will not concentrate. He is nervous, irritable, and wretched. His appetite is capricious, and he sleeps fitfully. For a few days he pulls himself together and plunges into work, but the effort exhausts him and he falls back further than before. He is unhappy and despondent, his viewpoint changes and the future looks uninviting and he loses his courage and his faith in himself. He hides all this from his family, he does not want wife and children to know that he is losing his hold. He even makes desperate efforts to keep fit while at home, and for a time he succeeds.

All this has been brought about by tremendous concentration of effort to do ten times as much work as he should do, and it has all been done in order to acquire riches and independence, not so much for his own sake as for his family's sake.

Now, a wife who fails to see the handwriting on the wall is no wife at all. Any wife who cannot tell, by a single look, exactly how her husband feels is not quite what she should be. Some women may question this declaration. They may regard it as a far-fetched indictment. The truth nevertheless is,—and all good citizens are thankful that it is so,—that if a man and woman live together for years, and during that time work together in sympathy and love, and share the burdens of life together, they grow toward each other; there is a psychicforce that binds them so that when the clouds begin to settle over one the other promptly sees the mist and brings all her subtle skill and solicitude to guard and fight in the other's interest. The "two hearts that beat as one" are old hearts, hearts chastened by experience and mellowed by the sorrows and joys of life, hearts that have gone through the dark spots and the deep spots of affliction, and have loved and helped each other all through the long journey to sunset's old age. God never inspired a holier picture than the wrinkled face of a good old mother. The old eyes, with the peering promise of a near peace in them; the toothless mouth, whose words of cheer are records of the past; the wrinkled face, the sad token of human frailty; the gentle word of welcome which age trustingly bestows, all speak to younger hearts with hungry words, and we hope that their lot is one of peace and contentment and happiness.

A wife, therefore, who has shared the burdens of life honestly and willingly with her husband will promptly note when life's struggle is becoming dangerous to her helpmate.

The true wife will insist on rest, and quiet, and recuperation. No man has the right to sacrifice himself for his family and no family should dare to expect it. A wife should frequently inquire and find out what their success is costing her husband, find out the price he is paying. No success is worth while if a man is undermining his health and strength to attain it. Men do it, however. American business men do it all the time.

Maternal sacrifice is admittedly the supreme or Christ-like instinct of the human race, and it has been accorded the glory which is its due, but the unsung song of father love is a more pathetic incident of this strenuous age than we are apt to believe. America is building a breed of men with a dual passion, the passion for riches, and the passion to protect. The one is a wrong ideal, the other is a wrong principle. Ask any of the worn-out men who are inmates for the time being of the splendid institutions in the country devoted to the recuperation of health: ask the medical superintendents of the large sanitariums; ask Muldoon; ask the busy men of big businesswhy they keep in the harness after they have made enough to retire upon; why they strive and fight and sacrifice themselves, and you will be told that the force which impels them is the desire to protect, with ample fortune, wife and children, and those dependent upon them. The average well-balanced man of America is never happier than when he can give to his loved ones every comfort and luxury possible. He is willing to work and so sacrifice self to the utmost to consummate his ambition. The right kind of a wife will see that her husband is getting a square deal.

The right kind of solicitude and the right kind of argument will tend to divert her husband's attention away from business, to the advantage of all concerned. The children of America need closer fellowship with the fathers. We should read fewer tales of the profligacy of rich men's sons and less lurid accounts of the doings of the daughters of society. The sons of poor men would profit by a freer companionship with the more experienced father, and the daughters would be less apt to wander away from the fireside of a home that was knit together by the broader sympathy of father love.

The training and education of our children is far more important than storing up money for them to spend recklessly. We all need help and cheering words and encouragement to do justice to ourselves and others. Nothing will inspire and stimulate youth more to achieve, to be clean in mind and body, and to succeed, than the knowledge that he is loved, and trusted, and has the implicit confidence of parents and of brothers and sisters. His pride is awakened, he would hate to fail, or to disappoint them, so he makes a conscientious effort to be worthy and to succeed.

The mothers are at the helm. They must be the harmonizing factor in the home, and they must bring their human ships into safe harbors. The storms and the battles of life will only unite the crew together if the "captain" is the right "man" in the right place.

"All that I know, I owe to my mother."Abraham Lincoln.

We Catch Disease—How Germs Enter the Lungs—How Germs Work in the Body—The Function of the White Blood Cell—How an Abscess Is Formed—The Evil Habit of Spitting in Public Places—Sunlight and Germs—Why It Is Necessary to Open Windows—Facts About Tuberculosis—The Tendency to Disease—The Best Treatment for Tuberculosis—Consumption Is a Preventable and a Curable Disease—When Delay Is Dangerous—What to Eat and Wear in Hot Weather—Scientific Dressing—Drink Plenty of Water—What to Drink When Traveling.

We Catch Disease—How Germs Enter the Lungs—How Germs Work in the Body—The Function of the White Blood Cell—How an Abscess Is Formed—The Evil Habit of Spitting in Public Places—Sunlight and Germs—Why It Is Necessary to Open Windows—Facts About Tuberculosis—The Tendency to Disease—The Best Treatment for Tuberculosis—Consumption Is a Preventable and a Curable Disease—When Delay Is Dangerous—What to Eat and Wear in Hot Weather—Scientific Dressing—Drink Plenty of Water—What to Drink When Traveling.

A simple explanation of how we "catch" disease may be interesting and profitable. Let us take, for example, a case of consumption. In order to "catch" consumption it is necessary to breathe into our lungs the germ of consumption.

How do we "catch" these germs?

If a consumptive patient spits or expectorates on the street, or on the floor of a railroad car, or in a room, or store, or theater, after a time the spittle becomes dry, and because of the wind or a breeze which may be caused by opening or shutting a door, or it may be the skirts of women walking about, the dried sputum in which the germs are becomes mixed with the dust of the air. If we happen to be around, just at the particular time when the germs are blown into the air, we may breathe into our lungs enough of them to produce consumption. If we are in good health, and if we do not happen to get too large a dose of the bacteria at one time (and that is only a matter of luck), we can overcome them, as will be shown shortly. If, however, we are not in good health, if we are just recovering from some serious or depressing disease, such as Grippe, the bacteria will overcome our reserve vitality, and consumption will graft itself on our weakened system.

How do these germs work?

They lodge on some part of the lung tissue and burrow into it. They make a nest for themselves and begin work immediately. They live on the lung tissue, they multiply rapidly, they produce—as a result of their activity—a poisonous substance. Because of their eating up, as it were, the lung tissue we often find holes (cavities) in the lungs of consumptives. By breeding rapidly they require more and more room, so they invade more and more of the lung tissue and destroy it. The poisonous substance which they produce is absorbed by the blood. Its effect on the blood is to weaken it, and when the blood becomes weak the vitality declines, so that the patient loses weight, appetite, and strength. The poison also produces fever, and so the long, weary fight goes on till death claims the patient.

What Happens If We Inhale These Bacteria, and Consumption Does Not Develop.—In order to understand the answer to this question it is necessary to explain certain facts concerning the white blood cells. The white blood cells can pass through a blood vessel and back into it again without leaving any hole in the wall of the blood vessel.

The function of the white blood cells is to wander around and if they discover any stray bacteria, whose presence is undesirable, it is their duty to get rid of it as quickly as possible. The white blood cell may therefore be likened to a detective whose duty it is to arrest any suspicious character who comes into the city. When a white blood cell discovers a strange microbe it immediately surrounds and encloses it within itself, just as your hand can enclose any small object, such as a cent or a dime. It then promptly goes to the nearest blood vessel, enters it, and is carried away in the blood stream. If we are in good health our blood cells are alert, active, and capable of defending us against any invading foe in the form of a microbe or bacteria. If we are not in good health the bacteria may overcome the white blood cells. If we inhale a large number of the consumptive bacteria at one time, and they succeed in getting into the lung substance, they are immediately met by an army of bloodcells, all bent on capturing them. An actual battle is fought and the deciding factor of the battle will be the condition of the patient. If there is plenty of strength and reserve force, if the patient is in good health, the blood cells will win the battle; if the condition of the patient is poor, the blood cells will lose the battle and tuberculosis, or consumption, has its beginning in that patient from the time the blood cells lose their fight. We know the battle has been lost because the well-known symptoms of the disease soon appear. The blood cells do not retreat when defeated; they go on fighting to the best of their ability. Whether they ever succeed in overcoming the bacteria, depends upon the treatment the patient gets, and his personal conduct. We give him a maximum of fresh air and sunlight because these are the great enemies of all kinds of bacteria. We force his feeding and try to stimulate his appetite, hoping thereby to give him strength so that his blood cells will fight actively in his interest. We take steps to reduce his fever so that his strength may not be wasted and burned up. If we succeed, with the necessary active coöperation of the patient, the blood cells finally overcome the bacteria and the patient recovers from the disease.

This is the story of the invasion of almost every disease. It is the story of the white blood cell.

The white blood cell is active in another way and it is a very interesting way. When you cut yourself the blood cells immediately surround the entire cut. They line up like an army defending a city. They form a perfect wall, millions of them, ready to pounce upon all enemies in the form of bacteria or microbes, that have the temerity to try to creep into the wound unseen.

This is the reason that so very few of the hundreds of little surface wounds and scratches which every one gets, ever become infected or go wrong in any way.

When a microbe does get inside, under the skin, and becomes active, as they sometimes will, the white blood cell, appreciating that it cannot defeat the enemy, begins to build a wall around him and locks him in. This compels the enemy to limit his activity within the wall, which he does, and so an abscess is formed, which burstswhen the bacteria fill it so full that the wall gives way and empties the poison out on the surface of the skin, thus saving the body from the poison of the microbe which would spread all through the body, were it not for the wall formed by the active, busy little white blood cell.

The foregoing simple explanation of "how we catch disease" will no doubt be suggestive to the interested and careful reader. The first and most obvious question that suggests itself is: If we "catch" tuberculosis by inhaling germs from some other person's dried spittle, why are consumptives allowed to spit where it will do harm? Consumptives are not allowed to spit where it will do harm, but they do and they always will.

Every department of health in every civilized corner of the globe has secured the enactment of laws making spitting unlawful in any public place. Every sanitary society, every agency whose aim is to work in the interest of public health, has actively aided, and is aiding, in the propaganda for a better universal understanding of the principles of sanitation and hygiene. The individual must be educated to understand the tragic need of such a law. You cannot legislate virtue into the public conscience. It is a profound reflection upon human intelligence to appreciate that the great white plague, for the stamping out of which so many thousands of lives are annually sacrificed, and so much money is spent, could be forever stamped out, if the human race would agree absolutely to stop spitting.

It is the duty of every person to take an active personal interest in this crusade of education and emancipation. We appreciate and concede that a large number of those afflicted with consumption do not willfully spit, knowing that others may be affected as a consequence. They do it in ignorance. Our aim is to educate the victim to an understanding of the true condition. The knowledge must be carried into every home, and the story must be told in a simple, convincing way, to attain results. The mothers of the country can aid to a very considerable degree, in this commendable work. Every mother can tell her children the story of how disease is caught. She can tell them that the dangerspots of infection are where people congregate together, in church, school, theater, street-cars, and railroad trains. She can teach them to breathe through their nostrils, especially when in these public places, because the nostrils are so constructed that they act as a sieve or strainer, they clean the air we breathe, and when we blow the nose after being in one of these places we blow out thousands of germs and other impurities which would have gone straight into the lungs if we had breathed through the mouth. She can teach them the value of deep breathing when in the open air, and of standing and walking erect so as to get all the lung space possible. By constantly reminding children of these little points you will be amazed at the progressive improvement which goes on both in their bodies and in their minds. They will become little missionaries, they will tell the story to others, and a real good can be accomplished in this simple way, that will grow in strength and vigor as the years roll round.

The next suggestive feature in the reading of "How we catch disease," is the significant emphasis which is put upon sunlight and fresh air in the treatment of consumption. Sunlight, as already stated, is the great enemy of microbes and germs of all kinds. Where sunlight is, germs do not want to be. How wrong, therefore, is the habit of lowering the shades, when the sun shines into your home, because it "spoils the carpet." Let it spoil the carpet; it is much cheaper to buy a new carpet than to pay for a funeral. Let the sunlight stream into your rooms for the few hours it can every day. Germs love the dark, sunless corners where the dust is. Housewives should, therefore, go into the dark corners with a moist duster, and wipe them clean, then boil the duster and hang it in the sunlight to dry until needed again. If you choose to use a feather duster instead, as the lazy woman does, you only chase the dust and the germs from one corner to another, and in doing so you afford yourself the opportunity of swallowing a few germs in the passing. One may, therefore, be punished in an unexpected way for being lazy.

For the very excellent reason that corners and anglesare unsanitary, there are to be no more of them in the construction of houses and office buildings of the better class. They are being built with "round" corners; even the ceiling and walls, and floor and walls, meet in a curve,—no square crevice or corner where dust or germs can gather.

If we add moisture to a sunless spot, we have the ideal environment for germs to breed and flourish in. There is always moisture or humidity in the air if the altitude is low, and if it is near the ocean, or any large body of water, the moisture is relatively greater. For this reason we send patients with pulmonary disease to the mountains, where the altitude is much higher, where there is no moisture, and consequently where there are practically no germs. We cannot move our homes to the mountains, however, so what must we do to get rid of the moisture and the germs where we are compelled to live? What do we do with the family wash when it is wet? We hang it up in the yard, in the sun and in the breeze, because we know from experience that the wind and the sun soon dry anything wet. They do more; they freshen everything, so that anything exposed to the sun and air smells fresh and sweet and is fresh and sweet and pure. So to make our homes sweet and fresh and dry we must chase the stale air away, and the moisture with it, by opening our windows and letting in the sunlight and the breeze, every day, and for as long as possible every day. Open windows and sunlight and fresh air,—all you can get,—this is the song of health, the joy of life, the only agents that will keep the eager, busy, little white blood cell healthy and willing and alert. This is the reason you must keep the windows of your bedrooms open at night, as well as by day, so you and your children will get fresh, pure, sweet air, and not stale, moist, germ-laden air to breathe.

Tuberculosis, or consumption, is a disease of poor air, dusty quarters, insufficient nourishment, and, above all, of ignorance with regard to its dangers and what we now know of the possibilities of its cure. The more we knowabout it the better chance there is to cure it, and better still, prevent it.

Not very long ago the death rate from consumption was one in six, that is, every sixth person who died in this country died as a result of tuberculosis in some form. It is now about one in eight. This is a remarkable decrease—about one-third of its former ratio of victims are now spared. Not so very long ago the disease was regarded as practically fatal; now it is classified as one of the eminently curable diseases. The universal dissemination of this knowledge will do much to rob the "Great White Plague" of its terrors.

Investigation and observation have demonstrated that there is in the great majority of people a definite tendency successfully to throw off the disease. It is a curious and astonishing fact, which we have learned from the study of the results of autopsies; we find, in nearly every instance, that every person in whom death occurred after thirty had had consumption at one time and resisted it and died of some other disease. We mean by this that at some time, in all likelihood during one of the "colds" of childhood, every one of us contracted consumption, but because of our vitality we successfully resisted and conquered it. In other words, the white blood cells won their fight.

This knowledge is of great value; it taught the scientists who were studying the characteristics of the disease that there were conditions, possible of attainment, under which the human organism could definitely and victoriously defeat the invasion of the tubercle bacilli.

The public mind, until recently, was imbued with the fallacy that the disease was hereditary. It was thought that if it "ran in the family" the victims of it were almost certain to die. We know definitely now that consumption is not hereditary, and that, instead of death being certain in a patient in whose family it has been, this fact alone ensures the victim a much better prospect of cure than if it had never existed in the family. The explanation of this seeming paradox is quite logical from a medical standpoint. The theory of the vaccine treatment of disease is that if you infuse into the blood theproducts of the germs of certain diseases, the individual in whose blood the vaccine has been put, will wholly resist that particular disease, or if he acquires it, it will be in a mild and more modified form. If a family for a number of generations has had various members die of tuberculosis, the blood stream of the family will have become so impregnated with the toxins, or poisons, of the disease, that, in time, a certain immunity will have been established. Consequently, tuberculosis in an individual, the blood of whose ancestors has been accustomed or habituated to the poison of the disease, will run a milder course, be more modified in its type, and will respond to treatment easier than in an individual whose family history is free from the taint of tuberculosis.

In proof of this principle, it is a well-known fact that consumption runs a rapid, fatal course among those nations which have not hitherto been exposed to it. The death rate among our American Indians when it was first introduced among them was enormous.

The same truth applies to syphilis. The blood of the civilized race has become so thoroughly syphilized, that it is no longer so susceptible to the disease as it once was: and the disease as we know it to-day does not manifest the same virulency as it did years ago, or as it does in a race in whom it is grafted for the first time.

These ideas of the curability of the disease and of its non-heredity are extremely important and supremely suggestive. Tuberculosis takes only the quitters and the supine. Anyone who will fight bravely against the disease can always resist its ravages for many years, if not to the extent of living out a normal life.

The Tendency to Disease.—Mothers should understand just what is meant by "the tendency to disease." We assert that consumption is not hereditary, but we know that certain individuals are born with the tendency to tuberculosis. Just what does this mean?

Let us suppose a tubercular mother gives birth to a child. It would be foolish to assume that this child comes into the world with a normal standard of resistance; but it is certain he is not tubercular and doomedat the moment of his birth. He may be what is ordinarily termed a weak, puny, sickly infant, but the germ of disease is not implanted in his constitution. If he is taken from his mother, taken away from the tubercular environment, and brought up under the best hygienic and sanitary surroundings, it is possible for him to become a robust, healthy, normal man.

The tendency to disease in this case will not materialize. If, however, we permit him to remain with his tubercular mother, to nurse her milk, to live in what necessarily is an unhygienic and unsalutary environment—the presence of the consumptive mother renders it so—the probability is that the tendency to disease, which in his case is the tendency to weak lungs, will materialize, because of his weak resistance, poor nourishment, and unfavorable surroundings. If, therefore, his method of living does not contribute to building up and strengthening what is in the first place a weak structure, the structure itself will, during the first strain put upon it, give way, and naturally the weak spot will be the point of election for the invasion of disease. This strain may be one of the infantile diseases,—scarlet fever, or measles, or whooping cough, or it may be bronchitis. Instead of convalescing from these conditions, as a normally constituted child will, this child, whose potential resistance is below standard, will fail to reach the rallying point, will afford a fertile field for germ invasion, and will develop tuberculosis,—not directly, however, as a result of having had a tubercular mother, but because he was not removed from the tubercular environment and given a fair chance. The high infant mortality is, to a very large extent, caused directly by this "tendency to disease," plus unfavorable environment, and this is wherein the eugenic propaganda has found its field of promise and is unassailable reason for active existence.

Let us take another illustration, so that mother may have a full understanding of the far-reaching effect of the "tendency to disease."

We cannot justly assume a child to have outlived its hereditary tendencies until it has reached the period of its full growth, physically, mentally, and morally. Weknow that this period is about the twenty-third year. Now a young girl of eighteen, or even twenty, who is successfully resisting an inherited tendency, is likely to reach her full physical and mental growth, providing she does not subject her vitality to a serious physical strain, or providing she is not the victim of a serious illness. Suppose this young girl marries and becomes pregnant; this condition immediately changes the fighting or resisting equation; she is no longer conserving her strength and energy; she is spending it out, wasting it so far as it applies to her own upbuilding. The percentage in favor of a successful fight against the inherited tendencies is greatly reduced, and as a matter of fact, statistics show—as is fully explained in the article on "The Evils of Early Marriage"—that many of these young mothers succumb to disease as a result of pregnancies at this period of immaturity, when they could have otherwise lived. The "tendency to disease" has therefore an economic value and the state should build along the line of the conservation of health in its broadest sense.

The Best Treatment for Tuberculosis.—The most important factor in the present-day treatment of consumption is the right kind of nourishment. This cannot be emphasized too strongly. In the first edition of this work, it was stated that the most important factor in the treatment of this disease was fresh air. The author has had very good reasons to change his opinion radically in this respect.

So emphatically may this truth be asserted that it is now not at all necessary to seek a change of climate in the hope that such a change may aid the patient. It must not, however, be understood that this reasoning applies to charitable cases. If the patient is so situated that it is not possible to provide a proper environment, a change may do good. It is not the change of air that is responsible for the improvement, however, though it no doubt contributes in these cases; it is the altered environment.

Patients who in their own homes enjoy sanitary and hygienic care; who may have a room of ample size for their exclusive use, which is thoroughly aired, day and night; who are provided with the "right kind of nourishment,"and who will obey implicitly the rules which the physician, who is conversant with this particular method of treatment, will lay down, may be assured that a prompt response will ensue. The intelligent reader will understand that this statement does not apply to patients in the last stages of the disease. The assertion, however, must rightly be regarded as revolutionary. It is not what we were taught—it emphasizes, nevertheless, what every physician already knows, that, theoretically, consumption is a disease that should respond to treatment. That we have not had greater success with it in the past, must be attributed to our method of treatment. The fact that most of us have had the disease, and have recovered, conclusively demonstrates its curability. Those individuals who fail to recover promptly do not possess the vitality to throw it off spontaneously. If at this time—the real beginning of the disease—it is discovered, and the right treatment instituted, we immediately supply the organism with the ingredients it is deficient in and we are justified in looking for favorable results if the patient adheres to the instructions.

The second essential in the treatment of consumption is an abundance of fresh, pure air. We therefore direct the patient to remain in the open as much as is possible. If circumstances permit him to sleep out-of-doors, so much the better; if not, he must sleep in a room with the windows open to the fullest extent, winter and summer. There are no exceptions to this rule. If it storms, the outside blinds may be closed, but the windows must remain open. The city air is just as efficient for our purpose as is the air of any other vicinity—the point is, to get enough of it from a mechanical standpoint. The advantages from sending patients away, even under the old belief, were more than discounted by conditions incident to the new environment that were detrimental to their progress. Now that we know it is not necessary or essential to procure any other kind or quality of air than exists in any city, all our efforts may be concentrated in the interest of the patient in directing the "right kind of nourishment" and in supervising his conduct. In few instances is it necessary to prescribe any medicine.

In exceptional cases the cough may require some sedative remedy, especially if it disturbs the patient at night. Experience has taught us, however, that to live twelve hours in the open air and to sleep with the windows wide open, will do more for the cough than any medicine we possess.

Pleuritic complications may cause pain, but this feature is best aided and permanently relieved by fresh air also. Very recently there were made exhaustive experiments in this connection in St. Thomas' Hospital, London, England. It was decided to subject patients to open-air tests for pleuritic pains in the course of consumption. This particular hospital is situated on the River Thames, in a notoriously damp and foggy part of the city; despite this drawback it was conclusively shown that the patients who lived night and day on the balconies breathing this heavy, murky, damp atmosphere, were relieved of their pains quicker, and more permanently, than those who were shielded in the wards of the hospital.

Inasmuch as the patient must be adequately nourished, his cure depends upon the condition of the stomach. It is known that the germ works more actively in a patient who is losing weight. When the germ is very active, its poisons, circulating in the blood, cause fever and fever results in tissue waste. We must therefore bend every effort toward overcoming this tendency. If we can get the patient to take sufficient food and if he digests it thoroughly, the weight will increase, the fever will subside, and the tissue waste will stop. Patients must be extremely careful, therefore, what they put into their stomachs. Only simple, tasty, highly nutritious food should be taken, and digestive energy should not be wasted on less nutritious materials. For this reason incalculable harm has been done by indiscriminate medicine-taking. Medicines exert a bad influence on the stomach and those patients who take them lose their appetites. Drugs should never be taken except for a definite purpose and only on the advice of a physician. These patients should particularly be guarded against the use of advertised patent medicines. They are always bad, and never under any circumstances are they of any advantage,as is clearly shown in the chapter on "Patent Medicines." Thousands of persons die of consumption every year who would have lived had they not taken such remedies.

The following article is sent out by the New York Department of Health as a Circular of Instruction regarding Tuberculosis.


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